Hermione and the Muggle Pen Pal Service
by Lilywing
Summary: Hermione is conviced by a good friend, Rafaela, to sign up with a Muggle pen pal service. Little does she know, someone else is using the Pen Pal service too... My first fic, please me gentle, and R/R. D/H story. Sorry about the dumb title, and enjoy.
1. Default Chapter Title

(A/N: Hi there, Lilywing here. This isn't the first fanfic I've written, just the first I've ever posted. Forgive the story, it's a little wacky. My muse is weird. Plus, if you are offended by Rafaela's religion, don't go crying to me about it! It's not meant to offend anyone. It's just meant for part of her character! Enjoy the story, and r/r. Thanks!)  
  
  
"Bored… ever so bored…"  
  
Draco Malfoy was, needless to say, bored. Very, very bored. The summer had no way to bully people, to kick Potter around…  
  
Well, look on the bright side, thought Draco, There is no Potter over the summer.  
  
He sat in the library, reading a magazine. A muggle magazine, no less. He was bored. But he thought it funny what they had to say. Make yourself look beautiful in seconds… what was this crap? Draco checked the front cover, reading "Jump… a magazine for girls who dare to be different." Draco immediately blushed. It showed, unfortunately too much, on his pale face. A girls magazine? He kept reading. He had always wanted to know exactly what girls were thinking. Like Pansy… he certainly didn't understand her.  
  
Hmm… one on one with the world's hottest boys? I don't think so. Fall fashions for back to school… not a chance. What kind of girl are you? Try "are you a girl?" No. Let's see… Aha! Pen pals for the summer! Hey girls, want to meet a great guy over the summer? This is the place! Perfect! I really want to meet some girls over the summer… even if they are muggle… I can just break their heart when the summer ends.  
  
  
Hermione was reading a stupid magazine. I mean, she thought to herself, one on one with the world's hottest boys? Who reads this junk? You do, thought a voice in her head.   
  
Her best muggle friend was sitting across from her, reading happily. Her name was Rafaela, but she liked to be called "Raf." She was outgoing, fun, totally apt to breaking rules… the exact opposite of Hermione. She only thing the two had in common was their brains. Raf just chose to use her brilliance in a different way.  
  
"La la la!" Raf burst out suddenly. Raf was American, but had come with her mother to Britain. She had brought all sorts of American magazines. Hermione had been friends with her for an eternity, ever since 2nd grade.   
  
Herm buried her face in her hands. "What now, Rafaela? "  
  
"La la la!" she said again. "Vunderbar! Look at this, Hermy! It's like, the end of our summer boredom!"  
  
"To tell you the truth," Hermione said irritably, reading the page in the mag that Raf had shown her, "Spending my time writing to muggle guys doesn't sound like much fun." Herm had told her friend about her being a Witch. Raf hadn't minded, being a 'Witch' herself. Rafaela was a Wiccan, a Goddess and God worshiping religion that could do a little simple magic. They weren't, contrary to popular belief, Satan worshipers. Satan didn't even exist in their religion. But they did perform spells, and were awesome at the art of potions.   
  
"Aww… we muggles aren't that bad! Honestly, that fancy-pants school has made you cocky!"  
  
"I wouldn't have done something like…" she motioned to the open page of the magazine, "this before I found out I was a witch."   
  
"Come on Hermy! Where is your since of adventure?"  
  
"I left it behind with Vol… you-know-who."  
  
Raf sighed. "You, my buddy, are chicken!" Raf was laying stomach down on the floor of her room. She turned over onto her back, looking up at Hermione so that her golden-brown, mid-neck length, thick hair spread itself onto the floor. She waved two, red "pleather" (plastic leather, as she didn't believe in real leather,) booted feet in the air. Hermione grunted.  
  
"Compared to you, maybe. You always wear fake leather, you're a vegetarian, you have a motorcycle, you drink your own potions… is there anything you don't do?"  
  
"Nothing. Now, If I write in, will you? We can find someone brainy and into work like you!"  
  
Hermione sighed. She stared into Rafaela's sapphire eyes. Herm has to hand it to Raf; she did know how to make a very convincing puppy face. "Alright! Alright! I'll do it, if it makes you happy."  
  
"Thanks! I could kiss you! I won't, though. I have a boyfriend, thank-you-very-much."  
  
Hermione sighed again, and turned onto her back as well. Maybe it won't be so bad as I thought, Herm said to herself.  
  
  
(A/N: Told you it was weird! Well, what do you think? Should I continue it or not? You decide! Thanks so much for your time!)  
  
(Disclaimer: No one, nothing, zip belongs to me, except Rafaela. She owns her house. Oh, and I own not the words, just the way I arrange them.)  
  
Lilywing  



	2. Default Chapter Title

(A/N: Gee, I'm glad you liked it! Just a fair warning, Draco starts to get just a bit ooc. I don't think so, though. I see him as a conformist, always wanting to do what his crowd thinks is right. But that's just me, being weird. Raf is a lot like me, and I figured that Herm would have a close friend before she got to Hogwarts. Just me rambling again… don't pay any attention to me. Happy Reading!)  
  
  
"We've matched you up with someone perfect for you! She'll be exited to receive your first letter!" Yeah, right, thought Draco Malfoy as he folded up the letter. He wasn't the least bit exited, he just thought of this as an end of summer blues.  
  
Or not. *Sigh.* Well, I'll just sit down and write this thing, if I have to. He picked up his favorite eagle quill, and dragon's blood ink, and began to write. The ink was thick and black, so it gave a formidable look to the already formal message.  
  
  
Dear Anne,  
  
Is it all right if I call you Annie?   
  
(No, no, that's not right, he thought. Well, maybe it is.)  
  
I suppose you'd like to know a bit about me. I have blonde hair and gray eyes, I am approximately 6 feet in height, and weigh 130 pounds. My father is a millionaire, and my mother the same, and they've never loved each other. I am the properly raised, young, 16-year-old boy they've always wanted.  
  
Of course, they never spend any time with me. I go to a boarding school for most of the year. There, my 'friends' (if you could call them that) insist on being exactly like my parents. Rude, conceited, you get the picture. So, I am forced to be like that or face the consequences.  
  
I really want to be like them, though. Well, not really. Just, some of the time. Some days, I would rather not call people rude things, or be so damned prejudiced! My father, mother, and my friends are. But, I suppose, not me.   
  
My one real friend, (he added, as a large, black lab waddled up beside him,) is my dog, Mage. He is a very good listener. But he insists on chewing on our ham bones, very loudly, might I add, while I'm trying to talk to him. He makes a fool of himself most of the time, which is why I enjoy his company. He's not vain, like the rest of us.  
  
Well, I guess that's all for now. Write back soon. I'm very interested to hear about your life. What are your parents like? What pets to you have?  
  
Sincerely,  
Dr…  
  
Draco stopped. What if the letter came back to him, and his father found out? He would get a very, very severe punishment. If he just used an alias, however…  
  
Sincerely,  
Drake Versatti  
  
There. A play off on his first name, and his mother's last name. This was a perfect plan. He ran out to catch the muggle mailman, who always passed their house, and dropped the letter to Anne with him. He had lied about being very interested in her life. She seemed rather dull, to put it bluntly. And a muggle.   
  
But the rest, he thought, patting Mage on the side, was all true. And that was just a bit worrisome.  
  
  
There was a screech from downstairs as a flock of birds came through the open window and up the stairs to Rafaela's room. At first the two girls were worried, but when they saw a mess of feathers, they relaxed.   
  
A jet-black raven soared over to Rafaela, and landed on her shoulder. Arram Numair, the Raven, belonged to Raf. Raf claimed he didn't, that he was just her trusted friend, but to the untamed eye, he certainly looked like a house pet. He cawed, lifting up a twig like leg to show his friend a letter. She pulled it off, and unfolded it. She read aloud to Hermione:  
  
Dear Whoever you are,  
  
Stop bothering me! I don't know who you are! Go away!  
  
Ron  
  
Rafaela snickered. Ever since Hermione had told her what a git Ron had become, she had taken to sending him strange, foreboding letters. She loved his reactions every time. "Go away! Ahhh!" Raf mimicked. Herm tried, very unsuccessfully, not to laugh.   
  
Hedwig was keeping as far away from Numair as possible. They must have gotten into a row along the way. A ministry owl was poking Hermione expectantly, waiting for her to take the letter he had brought. Instead, Hermione reached for the letter Harry had sent her.  
  
She smiled, reading it. Harry had asked her out last year, in their 5th year of Hogwarts. They had been going steady for nearly a year and a half now. As she proceeded to fold up the letter, Raf's head poked out of nowhere. "Let me read!"   
  
"No," answered Hermione bluntly.   
  
"Aww, come on!"  
  
"No, and that means not a chance."  
  
"Fine. I bet it has some really juicy stuff in it…"  
  
Raf knew exactly how to push Herm's buttons. "It does not!"  
  
"Uh, huh! Sure!"  
  
"It doesn't have juicy stuff!"  
  
"Right," she said sarcastically.  
  
"Here!" Hermione said, thrusting the letter in her friend's face. "Read it! No juicy stuff!"  
  
Rafaela tried not to snicker as she read it. It was kind of romantic, but Hermione was right. "Oh. You do realize you let me read it, right?"  
  
Hermione blushed. Raf let out her snicker. "I," she said to a very bewildered Herm, "am so cunning! Hehe."   
  
Herm was about to say something when Raf's golden-haired mother tromped up the stairs, plucking a feather from her messed up tresses. She looked livid. "Ladies, some letters came for you!"  
  
"Ohhh! Thanks mom," yelled Raf gratefully. Mrs. McLeod looked at her daughter reprovingly as she handed Hermione her letter.  
  
"Rafaela Michelle McLeod! What did I tell you about having birds in the house?"  
  
"Aww, but ma! Ron sent a letter! Do you want to read it?"  
  
"Not really. Just, be careful next time. And, yes, I did say Numair could stay," she added, seeing Raf's downcast look. "But only in your room." With that, she left.  
  
Hermione picked up her letter. It was from her new pen pal. Raf had convinced her to write in, but she had only done so under an alias. Her chosen name was "Anne McLeod," Anne being her middle name, and McLeod being Raf's last name. Raf was going to be her sister, instead of her best friend.   
  
Drake, thought Hermione, after reading the very personal letter. She liked that name. She liked it a lot. Don't be silly, she thought. You can't have romantic feelings for this boy. He sounds, frankly, a lot like Draco Malfoy…  
  
  
(A/N: Dun dun dunnnn!! The plot thickens! And you thought I wouldn't pair up Draco Malfoy with Hermione Granger. Oh, well. This is going to be a bit like "You've Got Mail," but not exactly. I kind of like where this is going. Huh. Well, as always, R/R and you'll be my friend. I'll have the next part up sooner with encouragement!)  
  
(Disclaimer: No one and no place except Raf belongs to me. Raf would like to own her mother, but, unfortunately, Raf's Mother owns herself. And Raf's mother owns her house. There. Just don't sue me!)  
  
Lilywing  



	3. Default Chapter Title

(A/N: Wow, two in one day! Amazing! OK, here goes. Well, Raf gets weirder, and Hermione goes on a date with Harry… unfortunately for everyone, Raf drags herself along! Hermione writes back to her mysterious corespondent, and feels really guilty. Things happen… and Draco gets in deep trouble with the Ministry! All in today's wacky episode of HatMPPS!)  
  
  
"I'm coming."  
  
"No, Raf, you are not!"  
  
"How upsetting! I am your best friend, and you won't even let me come along! Harry is bringing Ron!"  
  
"That's precisely why I'm not letting you go." The two were standing next to their vehicles. Hermione owned a pretty, blue Ford. Rafaela, however, was hovering protectively next to a beautiful red and silver motorcycle. It matched her outfit of a gray shirt that said "Professional Rodeo Competition… THE COWGIRLS" around a picture of a bucking bronco, black jeans, and her red pleather jacket and boots.  
  
They were arguing about Herm's date. Harry had been hoping for a double date, and wanted Hermione to bring someone along for Ron. However, he hadn't been hoping for the girl who had been sending them both odd letters by Raven.   
  
"Whether or not you like it, I'm coming!" Raf said matter-of-factly. Hermione was secretly glad she would be coming with her. Herm merely shook her head, and hopped into her car.   
  
"Come on. I'll drive," she said.   
  
"No thanks! In case you haven't noticed, I've not my own set of wheels. Coming, Numy?" she called to the Raven perched in the tree. Numair swooped down onto Raf's shoulder.   
  
She hopped onto her motorbike and sped down the road, with her short hair flapping in the wind. Numair had no trouble hanging onto the girl's shoulder. He had rode with her many times before. Rafaela's slender fingers moved to the radio. She had spelled it to play her favorite American radio station, even here. It was called Alice 106, and right now, they were playing her favorite song.  
  
"If you believe, they put a man on the moon…" she sang. She absolutely adored that song, especially since Taxi was a really good show*. A guy on the street threw a catcall at her. That was probably because of her singing. She was very gifted with voice, which was the reason for her Wiccan name. It was Lilywing, two things belonging to air. And, as not many people know, air is the governor of song.  
  
Hermione and Rafaela drove for a while, and finally ended up at "The Leaky Cauldron." There, the two saw Harry and Ron in front of the building, waving at them. Raf knew who they were; Herm had shown her a picture of all three of them. "Hi!" she called coarsely. Ron flinched. "As tears of joy, stream down my face, with arms wide open…" she sang. Suddenly, pulling into the parking lot, she stopped. "I love that song."  
  
Hermione laughed, and said "Ron, Harry, this is my best girl friend, Rafaela." Raf held out her hand, bent at the wrist with the back of the hand facing up. It was almost as if she expected Ron to kiss it.  
  
"Chahmed, I'm sure!" she said, in a mock English accent. "Dahling!" She snickered, noticing the look on Ron's face. Her voice returned to normal as she teased him. "Oh, and I suppose you've met my raven, Arram Numair." Numair cawed, and Ron bolted behind Harry.  
  
"That bird is the devil!" he shouted. They all, except for Ron, laughed. Even Numair seemed to have a smile on his face.  
  
"Come on," said Harry, putting his arm around Hermione's shoulder. "Cut it out you two. And Raf? No Monkeys have blown up into candy kisses in feety pajamas so far." Raf snickered again, remembering her latest letter.   
  
"Really? I'm surprised! I studied my crystal ball, my star charts, tealeaves… I was sure it would happen yesterday!" They all laughed this time. Raf might have been a Wiccan, but she was terrible at divination. She preferred potions. Those she always got right.  
  
The four humans and a bird walked into the pub, apting for a warm dinner.  
  
  
Draco looked into his father's eyes. Oh no! he thought. He must've found out about the letter!  
  
"A letter," said Lucius Malfoy calmly, "exited this house. A Muggle letter. It was to a Miss Anne McLeod. A Muggle girl. And, the person who wrote the letter wrote it with magic ink." A vein was popping in his temple, but he remained calm. "Now, Draco, who could have done such a thing? Surely it wasn't you, was it? You couldn't be so irresponsible, could you? Not you."  
  
"I… I don't understand!" Draco lied. His father gave him a piercing stare. "It wasn't me, I swear!"  
  
"Don't lie to me, Draco. The minister will be coming soon. See if you can lie to him then." With that, Lucius stood and left. Draco sank back into his armchair, and rested his head in his hands. That was very unlike his father. He would have not called the minister if something embarrassing had concerned his son. He would have covered everything up somehow. Not for Draco's sake, however. For his own.  
  
Mage waddled up to his master and set his head on Draco's knee. Draco reached down and patted his dog, wondering what would happen next.  
  
  
Hermione and Rafaela were once more in Raf's room. Herm was staying with her friend for the whole summer. She was now sitting at Raf's desk, opposite her friend.  
  
She picked up the letter, and read it to herself.  
  
Dear Drake,  
  
Yes, it's fine if you call me Annie. Nobody's called me that before, but I rather like it.  
  
I am kind of short, around 5 foot 3 inches, and weigh 95 pounds. I have shoulder-length brown hair, rather bushy if you ask me, and brown eyes. I live in a family of dentists, so my teeth are always perfectly straight.  
  
I have been known for ages as the "know it all." I can relate to you. My whole family, my best friends, everyone expects me to be perfect all the time. I am smart, true, but people can't see there's a heart behind the brain.   
  
My only friend, if you could count her as one, is my sister, Rafaela. She's just as smart as I am, and we're a lot alike, seeing as how we're twin sisters. Not identical twins, but twins just the same,  
  
The one difference between us is that she is very brave, and I am not. I've faced many dangers, but I care too much. I care too much about how people think I look, or people think I act, but it all ends up for naught. And Raf, who cares absolutely nothing of those things, is the most popular in her class.  
  
I am 16, and I have had a cat, Crookshanks, for 3 years. My sister has, as weird as this sounds, a pet raven who delivers her mail. If you want, I can probably send your letters using him. It might save a lot of postage.  
  
I suppose, now that I know much about you, that we're alike. All my life, I've wanted someone to talk to about anything. Raf is ok, but she's my sister. Now, I've finally got a friend.  
  
Sincerely,  
Annie McLeod  
  
Hermione leaned back, and looked at her 'sister.' She was writing feverently, and Herm was surprised she hadn't asked to read the letter to Drake. A fan was no in the dark, candle-lit room, and a cool breeze surrounded the place.  
  
"Who are you writing to?" she asked Rafaela.  
  
"No one in particular," Raf answered convincingly. Herm figured she was writing in her Book of Shadows. All of a sudden, as Herm put a stamp on the letter, she felt her heart lift up and her stomach flop. As soon as the feeling has come, it had gone, leaving Hermione to her guilty thoughts…  
  
  
  
(A/N: And it gets weirder! I didn't have any caffeine when I wrote this, honest! Just as a little backnote, Lilywing is my nickname among my Wiccan friends. I don't belong to a coven, but I hope to join someday when I'm older. I told you Raf was based on me! As another backnote, Rafaela is the feminine name of the angel of Air, Raphiel. The same is true for Michelle and the Angel of Fire, Michael. Just thought that was cool!)  
  
(Disclaimer: All the characters except Raf, her mother, and Numair belong to J. K. Rowling. "Man on the Moon" belongs to REM. And I love that song!)  
  
* "Man on the Moon" is about Andy Kaufman (I don't know how to spell his name, sorry) and he was on the show, Taxi. Don't think I messed up the dates. The song came out around the time our story takes place, and the movie came out last year.  
  
Lilywing  



	4. Default Chapter Title

(A/N: Sorry it took so long! I was really busy with school, and the only reason I am able to write this now is because I am sick today. Well, we find out what the Minister wants with Draco, and Raf sings! Oh no! Run for cover!)  
  
  
"Take it, Draco!"  
  
The three were hovered around a potion. Well, only Draco was holding it, and the two men were hovering around him.   
  
He'd never taken Veritaserum in his life. There had been no need. His father always had some handy, though. Lucius thought it great fun to force-feed it to the servants whenever china or tapestries went missing. (Or, for that matter, whenever Dobby had gone missing.)  
  
"Please, boy," the minister said irritably. "Take the potion. It will save us all a great deal."  
  
So this is what my father meant by 'see if you can lie to him then.' What will they do to Annie? What will they do to me?  
  
With a sigh, Draco downed the awful-tasting liquid in the goblet. It tasted like sour maple-syrup. It had the same sticky-sweet texture, but something was wrong about it. As soon as he had choked it down, the effects began immediately. He felt as if all defenses in him were being worn away. He couldn't do anything. He felt, for the first time in his life, vulnerable.   
  
"Now, Draco, did you write the letter or not?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Draco tried to clamp his hand to his mouth, but he couldn't move. He could only stay propped against the chair. He watched as his father fumed.  
  
"Did it include anything about magic?"  
  
Draco didn't have to lie now. "No."  
  
The minister visibly relaxed. "What did you write it with?"  
  
"Dragon's blood."  
  
"Who was it to?"  
  
"Anne McLeod."  
  
The minister looked puzzled. "A muggle girl?"  
  
"Yes." Now Draco really wanted to stop talking. His father looked disgusted, as if he had swallowed the Veritaserum as well.   
  
"That is all."  
  
  
The building was crowded. Rafaela was making moony-eyes at her secret crush behind his back. They were all about to go on stage. She saw her mother, her brother, and Hermione in the third row of the ground seats. Carol, the choir conductor and honorary accompanist was giving them all 'OK' signals.  
  
The crowd followed Sean out. He had dark, curly hair. Raf sighed as she got into place in the front row, directly opposite him. She jerked her head towards him, signaling to Hermione that he was the guy she would never be happy without. Herm looked un-amused.   
  
  
The pianist began to play. A chord, a chord, a chord, for about 4 measures. The chior then began to sing. Hermione let her mind wander wherever it took her.  
  
*Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed,  
Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed,  
Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need,  
I say love, it is a flower, and you its only seed.*  
  
Hermione thought of eyes. She expected to think of green eyes, but deep gray ones kept popping into her mind. She pushed them as far away as possible.  
  
*It's the heart, afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance,  
It's the dream, afraid of waking, that never takes a chance,  
It's the one who won't be taken, who never seems to give,  
And the soul, afraid of dying, that never learns to live.*  
  
"Is it alright if I call you Annie?" No, no, it's not! I can't love you, I don't know you.  
Drake. Draco. Draco Malfoy. No!  
  
*When the night becomes too lonely, and the road seems too long,  
And you think that love is only for the lucky, and the strong,  
Just remember, that in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows,  
There's a seed, that with the suns love in the spring, becomes the rose.*  
  
The end of the song came too quickly. Hermione had aroused thoughts that had been buried too deep to reach until now. "And the soul, afraid of dying, that never learns to live." That was so much like her. It hit too close to home.  
  
But the thoughts that were left unsorted buried themselves again, far beneath the snow.   
  
  
(A/N: What do you think? That one of my favorite songs! Sean comes more into play as he becomes more a part of the story. But, never fear, it'll all come together in the end! I'll try to get the next one up sooner.)  
  
(Disclaimer: All characters except Raf, Numair, her mother, Sean, and Carol belong to J.K. Rowling. Carol belongs to herself. She is, in real life, my awesomely cool chorus teacher. Sean is my character, as is Raf, Numair, and Raf's mother. And "The Rose" is by Bette Midler, though I wish it were mine.)  
  
Lilywing  



End file.
